Friday, July 20, 2007

At a glance, this week's commenter draft looks remarkably, and deceptively, easy. I mean, you or I could fuck up our careers irreparably with little more than a stray "all staff" e-mail (that's the last time you forward your coworker one of Punter's posts) or even a good cupping of the secretary's glorious tits.

Upon reaching a certain threshold of fame, however, and the normal rules cease to apply. As is increasingly the case, one must put together a menu of faux pax and fuck-uppery to jeopardize one's career. Singular incidents often just won't do.

Killed someone? Not even a fellow celebrity? That's too fucking pedestrian. Ray Lewis kills at least three people before lunch EVERY DAY, including July 4th and Satan's birthday. Fucked some kids? I'm pretty sure I saw Michael Jackson performing on some network special the other week. Hate the Jews? Well, yes, I thought Apocalypto was a decent flick.

Not so simple, huh?

Even more recent examples, such as Pacman Jones and Michael Vick - aka "Ron Mexico," aka "Ookie," aka "Lionel Hutz," aka "Miguel Sanchez" - had to assemble a slate of improprieties. Vick prefaced the fallout of Bad Newz Kennels with an offseason of stoner high jinx. But where his true genius lie was messing with animals. People care about adorable little critters more than their fellow man. Know why we're still in Iraq? Easy. No cute animals there - camels are fucking ugly. China poses an economic threat to us but, hey, they got pandas.

The rules. You're an A-list celebrity at the peak of your career. Pick a deed or statement that could deep-six your fame quicksville. And by that, I don't mean something that will bump you down a peg in stardom or dog you for a few years. I mean "you will never work in this or any town again" type of shit. You must wait 10 picks to make another pick. There is some room for overlap. If you take away all the major heinous crimes in the first five picks, there isn't much left to work with. Serial jaywalking probably wouldn't hurt your career too badly. Having said that, try to be creative about it.My pick is shooting the President of the United States.

Neither should this be taken as a political statement on my part. I'd like to shot most politicians regardless of ideology. Rather, I figure it's the surest, fastest way to ruin your public image. I don't remember Charles Guiteau going platinum after he killed President Garfield.

201
comments:

I'll take it literally, think of myself as anyone working in hollywood, and proceed to take a big shit on harvey weinstein's desk, with harvey watching. I'd settle for shitting on michael bay, but weinstein's more the 'you'll never work in this town again!' figure.

I would light Brandon Flowers on fire on live Television, say SNL or you know a program people actually watch, and then laugh and say, "Hey everyone, look at this flaming mormon poseur. You thought growing a mustache and cranking the Springsteen up to medium would lead to instant credibility? Let's see Xenu save you now."

I'd go on a hobo-murdering spree. People wouldn't mind at first, but I figure by the time I'd killed several dozen or maybe a hundred, the law would catch up with me. I'd be the Charles Manson of cool people.

caveman, i don't think murdering hobo's is technically "career suicide". much like midgets and asians, hobos are born without a soul so its not, technically, the same as killing a regular person. some might even applaud your effort.

On a press junket for my latest movie/book/whatever, announce my endorsement of a new chain of Old World-style abortion clinics, and that I'll be on-hand to administer the inaugural bleach and Lysol blasts.

I'm not sure of the details exactly but I see myself as being caught in acts where I am the gimp from pulp fiction, maybe I will be doing them to puppies, I don't know, there is alot to work out when trying to destroy my career

Start touting myself as the next Bono by proclaiming I am going to bring vaccinations to Africa. However, I would fill the neeedles with AIDS, syphilis and cyanogen chloride, you know... just to be sure.

Get caught selling uranium to North Koreas. And by "get caught", I mean "open a bargain-basement chain store in which all the world's violent extremists can stock up on their deadly devices. Want explosions? We've got depleted uranium in a child's sippy cup! Fancy a more eco-friendly method of murder? We've just got some cases of super-virulent smallpox! It comes in Pepsi cans, so as a practical joke at work, shake it up and hand it to a thirsty coworker, then laugh as he and half of your city dies a horrible death!"

Actually, that last part sounds like a fucking awesome practical joke.

So, I've pissed off the Left with my John Rocker impression. I've pissed off the Right by ripping up a photo of the president on Fox News. I've pissed off the rich by starting a blog. I've pissed off the poor by firing my handlers and acting like a jerkoff. I've pissed off everyone else by getting a sex change.

Now I'll just become an American Soccer Player and no one will ever hear from me again. Victory is mine.

I'd either have my "romantic abnormality" exposed during one of my daily trips to the aquarium, or else I'd put all my energy into a own pet project: The ContrabulousFabtraption of Professor Horatio Hufnagel.

If I were an actor, I would come out and openly diss the jews and question if the holocaust really happened. And I wouldn't do it the pussy Mel Gibson way..like where you don't really come out and say it. I'd be on Oprah talking about how the jews are whiny pussies. And then I'd stab Oprah. That should do it.

I would live in the shadow of my more talented brother. Pull a gun on a couple of minors in a Mickey D's parking lot. Fuck a 14 year old, seduce her with drugs, and try to get her to "fuck the crew". Stomp on an opposing player's knee during the Gator Bowl. Get kicked out of Virginia Tech for amassing a very healthy criminal record, whilst starting for a BCS college team. Go undrafted, sign with the Dolphins for the league minimum, play one quarter of the season, and get released just in time to watch my brother's career flush down the shitter.

Nuke my lucrative film and media superstardom in the name of promoting my fascination with giantess porn. Liquidate assets in making extremely graphic Bollywood epics about fifty-foot women who let six-foot tall men make love to them.

Like Vincent Gallo, but only cleaner because Chloe "Madd Herpz" Sevigny is not involved.

Since we are allowed some overlap and someone already mentioned this, allow me to expand on the idea:

Show up on To Catch a Predator with a 12 inch double-sided dildo (black), box of chardonay, and pocket full of slim-fits and extacy with a unicorn stamp.

I'd try to explain myself like the rest of the douche bags by saying I thought the wine was just a big juice box, the condoms were balloons to make balloon animals and the extacy were Smarties. Then we'd both awkwardly look at the dildo, I'd realize their was no way out, pop the extasy and enjoy the brutal take down and interrogation process that was to follow.

Apropos of absolutely nothing, but I figure it'd be appreciated somewhat here:

So, I was on the Greyhound last night from Toronto to New York, and in Buffalo, this full-out thug gets on and sits next to me. But he's humming to himself and occasionally squawking and whatnot, and, after some careful observation, I realize that he's autistic. This is a strange enough combination to begin with.

But then he kicks things up a notch: he takes off the jersey he's wearing, and I see that it's a plain white Mike Vick Virginia Tech jersey ... which he then proceeds to colour in *entirely* with bright yellow highlighters.

I would host a pay-per-view special starring myself and Kimbo Slice. In the special, I would pay Kimbo escalating sums of money to ambush likeable celebrities and royally fuck them up. John Stewart, Conan O'Brien, Mandy Moore, George Clooney, and Dakota Fanning all make the list. After Kimbo does his thang, I shit in their mouths. For our encore....The Pope.

I'd dress up as Marilyn Monroe and sing Happy Birthday Mr. President on JFK's grave while chugging a bottle of Chivas. When I'm done drinking, I'd smash the bottle on the headstone and walk away muttering something about Ted Kennedy being a bloated whale.

Produce and direct a movie starring Robin Williams as the priest who died at the WTC, only it's a comedy and Robin plays the priest wacky-style. Until he dies. But then he haunts all the firefighters and cops and whatnot in the years following 9/11, with wacky ghost priest hijinks. I might throw Dakota Fanning in there as the only living person who can see him and Rosie O'Donnell is the plain-talking nun the child confides in.

Haven't got a title yet. Suggestions are welcome, if anybody has nothing better to do.

I'd print anti-Muslim and Mohammed bashing stories and drawings, making it abundantly clear that all Americans think their god and religion are gay retards. Putting all U.S. citizens in constant peril should get me blacklisted, right?

Produce and distribute the sequel to BATTLEFIELD EARTH. Somehow incorporate Challenger footage w/o permission. Not as flamboyant as going after politicos but it keeps my dick intact while fully accomplishing the mission.

I'd convince Chloë Sevigny to blow me on camera while I auctioned off my sperm on my personal website with the disclaimer of "no black chicks," and when Roger Ebert doesn't like my film I'd wish cancer upon which he would actually get in an odd turn of events.

/Vincent Gallo

I really do like the guy though. Not his movies or acting but Gallo's dickishness is inspiring.

I would call a press conference, announce that I've become a born-again Christian, and read my favorite Bible verse. In the middle I would whip it out and wack it all over the Bible. Did I mention the children that I would've brought on stage with me? How else could I get it up?

That would probably screw you with just about everyone ever. I'll be staggering down the streets of San Diego chugging hot milk in no time.

I would get really, really into human traffic. I'd buy as many slaves as I could afford, and make no attempt to hide it. In fact, I'd discuss my slaves every chance I got. Then, at trial, I'd plead not guilty because "I didn't know it was illegal."

Swing and a miss. I would like to find some way to combine "Ground Zero" and a religious reference (but still on topic) so as to offend as many as possible. Something stupidly offensive like "I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry" or "License to Wed." Does it help to know that the priest who died at Ground Zero was also gay? There's gotta be a way to offend everyone with all that - gayness, Ground Zero, Robin Williams, religon. I'm just not smart enough to figure it out....

I didn't even think about making it a musical, but that might work even better. Rosie could sing a song about being a bride of Christ, Robin could sing about being a gay priest (the possibilities there are almost endless), we could have firefighters and other rescue workers singing about lung diseases at Ground Zero. Giuliani could have a cameo and just sing "9/11" over and over again... Maybe it could be as simple as "Ground Zero: The Musical."

Not to get back ON topic, but here's my career ender: After winning an Oscar for my brilliant portrayal as a retarded magical negro (better luck next year, Cuba Gooding Jr. you punk), I mention in my acceptance speech my "pet cause": the re-enslavement of blacks in America, peppering in a number of misinterpreted Biblical references as my rational for my position. Then I piss on Morgan Freeman's head as the music swells.

Not entirely original, but I'd kidnap daughters of famous/rich people, keep them in my basement dungeon until I kill them, then peel off their skin and wear it over my own. Then I'll videotape my fat male body covered in the skin of a dead naked chick, and post it on YouTube.

K, back to Celebrity Career Suicide: again as a producer/director, I'd locate a shoot in some shithole third-world country and hire only locals and pay them $5 a day (none of this union wage shit) to work. One of the stunts would be super-dangerous, so a couple of them would get killed, but it's alright because over there, you can easily buy off a poor family with a couple of goats.

Again, this movie would star Robin Williams and Rosie O'Donnell (they get in front of a blue screen for all their shots, so they don't know about the third-world crap until the movie comes out) as a married couple on vacation in, say, Afghanistan. Hilarious hijinks ensue. And yes, there's an explicit sex scene.